


fathers, sons and mothers (also step-angels)

by phinnia



Category: CSI: Miami, Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-02-08 05:48:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21471046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phinnia/pseuds/phinnia
Summary: Spoilers for CSI: Miami 1:02:  Losing Face.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Kudos: 13





	fathers, sons and mothers (also step-angels)

"So why are we in Miami, again?" Aziraphale asks Crowley. 

Crowley just sighs. Aziraphale rolls his eyes and follows, because he knows that he's getting absolutely nothing out of the demon in this mood. Nothing at all. So he keeps walking, grateful for his cream-colored suit, and wonders how the humans stand the heat. And the humidity. It's truly dreadful, even at nine in the morning. 

Crowley stops outside a house in an area north of the city. "Back behind the yellow tape." he murmurs.

"What?"

"You'll want to stand back behind the yellow tape."

Aziraphale looks at the demon, but his ever-present sunglasses reveal nothing at all. 

Fine. They both stand back behind the yellow tape.

And then the house they are standing across the street from explodes.

There is nothing to be done. They just ... wait. The house is literally falling to cinders and ashes. 

Crowley stands there with his hands in his jeans pockets. Waiting. Watching. 

And then a blue and white police van pulls up and a man gets out. Aziraphale gasps.

He almost looks identical to _Crowley_. Not entirely, but very similar. Very similar red hair - a bit lighter - extremely thin, the same sort of all-points-and-angles-body - even the blasted _sunglasses_ are almost the same. Long-sleeved blue shirt, green pants.

"Crowley." He breathes.

"Quiet." the demon hisses, waving his hand.

"Is that your _son_?" 

"'Scomplicated." He hisses under his breath. 

"It's _complicated_? It doesn't seem that complicated to me! All the parts fit, I know you know how that works!"

"Will you _keep your fucking voice down_ before one of these bloody humans notices we're here?!?" The demon looks at him over his sunglasses, a spark of rage in his amber eyes.

"All right." Aziraphale whispers. "But ... am I right?"

Crowley stares at the sky. "Yes. Was a while ago." 

"Well, _obviously_." He chuckles under his breath. "And he's ... he's a police officer now?"

"I had nothing to do with that nonsense. All his father, that was." Crowley shrugs, but he's got a slight smile on his face. 

"My goodness. He's got your love for danger, I think." Aziraphale murmurs.

"Used to defuse bombs for a while." Crowley murmurs, walking away. 

Aziraphale follows behind him. "How completely fascinating. Tell me more."


End file.
